The Hilton and the Hound

Bonjour, Pierre here!

We're back home now, but my mom and dad took me to this place they called the "Hilton," and we lived there for what seemed like a REALLY long time.  I'm not sure why, but everyone seems very interested by the idea of me living there, so I figured I'd give you my perspective on the place.

It was really, really cold there, so I consider myself very lucky to have received a new blanket from Santa Paws this year.

Then, there was this cold, wet, white stuff that they expected me to go outside and walk in. It looked sort of like beach sand, but it was NOT the same. I ate some, and it was much more refreshing than the sand I eat at the beach.  But the cold hurt my feet, and I didn't know what to do, so I refused to walk and waited for my dad to carry me inside.  My parents seemed to think this was cute, but I personally found it to be quite désagréable. 

Luckily, my mom bought me some lotion for my paws, and our room was warm and toasty.  Getting there was so weird though.  I know this will sound so crazy to you, but I'll do the best I can to explain.  

There were these doors. Magic doors. Made of metal.  And you walked through them, and they closed, and when they opened again you were in a DIFFERENT place. Really guys, I'm not lying.  I think it's one of those things you just have to experience yourself to believe. 

 

My favorite spot to nap and keep an eye on the neighborhood was from that red chair in the corner of our room. I liked to refer to it as "my throne."  I miss that throne, but I'm really glad to have my old couch back now.

Everyone who worked at the hotel seemed enchanted by me, which I loved, but don't quite understand.

I mean, it's like they had never seen a basset hound living in a hotel before or something.

Strange.

But I did get lots of belly rubs and treats from them.

There was this one lady, Jennifer, who worked in the spa, who said she had a dog just like me.

She wrote a really nice note to us and bought me a bag of chicken strip treats from Trader Joes.

 

Mom said people like her restored her faith in humanity, whatever that means.

But those treats sure were yummy.

There were lots of sidewalks for me to walk on, which I enjoyed.

When there wasn't snow that is.

Otherwise, I loyally sat at my mom's feet while she studied, and tried to get caught up on my rest.

I only got in big trouble once.

I was excited about the phone in our room. 

It had big buttons, which are easier to dial with my chunky paws than mom's cell phone.

Apparently it costs money to call Floyd long distance from that phone.

Mom told me that mistake of fact was not a defense in this situation.

I think she was studying too much. 

 

I must say, I was impressed by the quality of the linens.

 

Everyone seems to be doing reviews on blogs these days, so I thought I would try my chunky paw at it.

If you need a place to stay in Richmond, VA, I give two dewclaws up for the Hilton in Short Pump for the following reasons:

1. Nice people. 

2. Good linens for sleeping.

3. Magic doors.

4. Lots of new smells.

5. Spa Shower. Enough said.